A Given Chance of Choice
by Conjectured
Summary: "If he could do it all over again, he would choose Lily." A day before Halloween of '81, Snape is shown what will be, and is given a chance. One shot with possible continuation.


**Disclaimer, etc.**

**A Given Chance of Choice.**

It was silence. Utter silence. The only thing that broke through was the man's breaths of despair. It was darkness, shadows swaying within the room and terror dancing. The pale man had sunk to his knees only moments before, arms splayed to his side and life seeping from his form.

His glassy eyes stared at the damp floor in front of him, mouth slightly ajar. It was shock. It was anguish. It was pure desperation. Dripping accompanied his airy breaths, and it took a moment to compute that salty tears mingled with salty sweat was running rivulets down his ashen face and landing on the floor.

Nothing made sense right now. Not when, not where, not why. The how he knew; the how was him. And _him. _Only one thing was exceptionally clear, and exceptionally bright. And that would be her. With her flaming hair and sparkly eyes. Oh, how her eyes shined. But not anymore, not then.

Grief once more blossomed in his heart, making it pump painfully. It stored in him like jagged pieces that shredded his insides every time he drew in for another lungful of air that never seemed enough.

_Lily._

As if her name was magic itself, he raised his arms and lunged for his head - crumbling within himself as he let out a long, guttering scream. It was the release he needed. And once he stopped, only his sobs interrupted his moaning, striving to think through the desolation.

His mind flashed to her laughing; a cheery, yellow sort of day. His mind zoomed to the grey and black, her body overturned and desperation carved into her cold, dead body. It looked to the crying child, weeping its confusion. He couldn't even feel the involuntary disgust and hatred as his mind thought of the other body crumpled on the floor below.

_Oh Merlin, oh Merlin. What have I done... What did I do? I would never, could never…_

He wrapped his arms around him then, cold and bleak with guilt. Apparently he had. Apparently he would. So why this? Why now? The only woman he had ever loved suffered her death at his hands. He laughed then, cruelly.

'I present you with a choice. This is to be the future, yours, theirs – and ultimately everyone's. A day to be celebrated; and the boy. Well, he is the boy-who-lived.'

Something twisted in his gut as he heard those words and inexplicable rage tore through him. Celebrated! The boy-who-_lived_! Like the lives of Lily (and James) were nothing, but their deaths were a happiness. He snarled.

'Of course,' the formless voice continued, his male baritone covered in honey and laced with syrup, 'this could all be changed. You could change it. This doesn't happen until Halloween.'

The man on the floor stopped breathing and felt something akin to hope for the first time since he had succumbed to becoming a branded slave.

'Either you do, or you don't. And if you don't, well everyone else would be happy. Mostly.' He added the last word as if it were an afterthought, and managed to project a shrug.

The human still writhing with despair felt as if the air around him itself drew a breath, and the voice with the visions was suckered through a vacuum. And he knew he was alone.

The weight of his choice crushed him, and it was daunting. A day at most to think about it. What to do? More importantly, what could _he _do?

And as if that was the right question, the man suddenly felt a spurt of energy. Or maybe, he realized, this was determination? He put his hands on the floor and shakily, ever so tantalizingly slowly he stood up. He felt almost airy, heady at the chance he had just been given.

He knew, oh Severus Snape _swore_ it on the blood of his forefathers – and the hundreds of innocents he had decimated – that Lily Evans would not die.

**[-*AN*-]**

Wow, well I think I'm getting back into writing again after a few years of break, hahah. So this was actually only meant to be a one shot about how, if given the choice, Snape wouldn't tell Voldemort the prophecy if he was shown what would happen. But now it sort of morphed into him actively doing something to stop it, and a possible continuation. I've got ideas running but we'll see.

A random thought in the early AM.

Tell me what you think!

Also, side note: re-reading chapters and notes of my previous stories (2) and will update in possibly a few weeks :)

Thanks for reading; love C!


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